Forever
by LongLoreLover
Summary: There was another Salvatore turned on that fate night in 1864, and this is his story. Much of it intercedes with the Vampire Diaries, but Henry's tale is his own. Rated M for...well mature. Look up the definition if you don't know what it entails.


1864

Stefan's eyes rolled into his skull as he enjoyed the sweet, soul-satisfying taste of his father's blood. He half smiled at the taste, half frowned as he struggled to gulp more than his already-full mouth could handle. His father's face slowly blanched, and his hands soon became limp. Stefan could barely muster up the care however, he had regressed, and the Vampire was now king.

"Father I heard you-" Stefan's brother Henry announced as he walked up the stairs. His voice trailed off as he entered the room. In shock, Stefan snapped his head towards his brother, mouth covered in their father's blood. Henry finally turned and saw him. "Stefan..." he breathed in terror. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he fell back. "Wha-wha. What have you done with father?" Henry demanded, finally standing up to his full height of six foot-three. Stefan stood slowly, and pressed his palms together. "Now, Henry, do not scream. Everything is fine!"

Henry looked at Stefan as if he was the Devil. And indeed, his brother was, to a lesser degree. "Fine? You stand above father's desecrated body as the very thing he tried to eradicate, and you have the audacity to tell me everything is fine?!" Henry angrily whispered, Stefan's thinly veiled threat still ringing in his ears. Stefan licked his lips and tried again. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You would say that. That's the devil inside of you Stefan. I assume Damon is in cohorts with you now..." Henry moved closer towards the door, but in such a way that it looked like he was pacing. Stefan didn't notice. He gave a small smile and shook his head. "No Henry. Damon hasn't turned yet...You should join us!" Stefan suggested the idea as it just hit him. Henry scoffed, his clean-shaven face and dark brown hair bouncing. "No brother. I think not." He had reached the door.

Stefan stood and slowly strafed towards his brother, eyes sharp and imploring. "Why? All our lives, we have been here for each other. When mother died, we made a pact to stay together, to care for each other. Damon may be oldest, but you had always been there for me while he had been out in the war Henry. You, warned me about Catherine, and how she would destroy Damon and I, pit us against each other. Join me now, and let me repay you this favor with the best thing I could possibly ever offer."

"Stefan you know I love you but-" Stefan's hand was suddenly at Henry's throat, pinning the man against the bookshelf. A few classics fell, but Henry was riveted by Stefan's stare. "No, I need you to watch over me in the afterlife Henry," Stefan began to say, Henry's pleas deaf on his brother's ears. "From this moment on, we will always be together. Nothing will ever break us, and all of us: Damon, you, myself, will live on forever as the Salvatore Brothers!" There was a crack.

Henry's eyes grew distant, and he slumped. "Forever." he breathed, and his last breath left his lips. Stefan looked at his brother, and at once noticed the lifelessness. "No..."he said. He removed his hand from Henry's neck, and watched his brother's neck twist too far to the left for it to not be broken. "No no no." he repeated. "Henry!" He shouted, trying to jolt his brother to life. But nothing would work. Stefan cradled his brother close to his chest, crying non-existent tears. After a time, lip quivering, Stefan stood up, his mind too fast to dwell on anything for too long. So he had killed his brother? It didn't matter. Cause at the time, Stefan just didn't want to be alone. So he went to Damon. As he got up to leave he said, "Good bye Henry. May I see you again either when I am a still corpse."

And he left.

Six hours later-

Henry's eyes flew open, and he took as first breaths as a man in Transition. No one had bothered to check in, Mr. Salvatore often stayed late at his desk, writing in his diary. As a result, his body and blood was still there. The smell hit Henry first, it smelled like the best thing in the world. Instinctively, Henry Salvatore turned, and growled.


End file.
